


Truth or Training Montage

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 05:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14562291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Caleb is super good at counting, especially when it comes to one question per round.





	Truth or Training Montage

__

“Are you a vampire, Caleb?” Jester’s voice shocks him from his book as they walk, he turns to frown at her in confusion.   
“N- No, not that I am aware of, why do you ask?”   
Jester shrugs.   
“You don’t like daylight, or to be seen, and you count everything all of the time!” to prove her point, she begins to shuffle coin from one pouch on her hip to the pouch on the other side, watches as Caleb’s eyes dart back and forth and he whispers under his breath.   
“How much did I put in the pouch, Caleb?”   
“Thirty-six gold. Sixteen silver. Two copper.” Caleb rattles off like instinct, and winces at the end, knows he’s gotten it exactly right.   
“I  _ know _ I don’t need to count that.” Jester points at him, and then spins off and Caleb is left to breathe in the space she leaves behind.

They begin to train on the road, friendly spars that Beau gets  _ way _ too into, so it ends up that Molly is the only one that will train with her. Jester, Fjord, and Nott sit to the side nursing their bruises, Caleb is leaned up against a tree some distance away, Yasha is away on… Yasha business.   
Molly is working on his  _ flourish _ , something he felt he lacked in the tournament, and when under the scrutiny of an entire city, the flair and flourish is massively important. So he’s been working on his flexibility, Caleb’s caught him bending and cracking himself, stretching himself out so that he can slip away neatly, like now. Beau swings her staff around, whirling, and Molly bends backward like a willow tree, the staff catches and tugs at his lapels but doesn’t get Mollymauk. He rights himself and twirls away from an offhand punch, brings the blunt of his blade up to crack into Beau’s wrist.   
“Ah! Fuck!” she cups it to herself and glares, Molly finishes his turn and stands prepared, Beau braces and jumps, uses her staff to propel herself higher and cascades onto Molly like a waterfall, his blades come up and Beau shifts her angle so that all of her weight bears down on the flat cross of protection and carries through, crushing. Molly’s shoulders tense as he braces, the swords press against his cheek and for a moment all is still.   
And then he pushes and sweeps out in an “X”, skimming Beau’s leg only slightly, catching more cloth than skin and she gives a peep of shock at the sudden pain, arching backwards through the sky and turning at the last second, C-shape in the air, to land in a three-point, skidding back a few feet away. Her injured wrist is held to her chest, still, and she pants.    
Molly straightens, unscathed but for a thin line on his cheek.   
“Fuck.” Says Beau, and there’s a sharp grin on Molly’s face, he sweeps his scimitar and there’s a crackle as the moisture of the air solidifies along the blade.   
“Still good?” He calls to her, and Jester is standing at the side of the marked out grounds, Beau looks from Molly to her and holds up her wrist.   
“ _ Traveler be with you! _ ” Jester calls in reply, and Beau feels the ache seep from her bones, hairline cracks filling in.   
Molly rolls his shoulders.   
“After you, darling.”   
And Beau moves in a blur, she’s expending a lot of strength to work this way but it’s worth it and she’s behind Molly. The first crack to the back of his head has him stumbling forward, she misses the kick to the back of his legs and his swords aren’t quick enough to catch Beau’s fist as he turns straight into it, he feels his nose crack against the pressure.   
Then the sword with the ice is swooping in, Beau doesn’t twist away in time, she twirls and a line is drawn across the bare skin on her back, the edges glitter with frost and Beau sucks in a breath rather than screaming.   
“Enough.” Caleb is up, “That is three times you have cut her tonight, the ice magic will take time to wear off. I understand that building up an immunity is important, but so is keeping Beauregard active for her watch this evening.” He's been watching and counting, the book on vampiric behaviour not quite enough to distract him from Beau's injuries.   
“Ain’t we takin’ watches in twos now, though?” Beau’s sullen, she puts a hand to her back where the crystals are creeping across her skin, “Jester’s got this shit on lock.”   
“And if Jester runs out of spells to heal you, we are right back here again.” Caleb grimaces at her, and sets his own hand over the wound. The heat and throb of arcane power in his blood against the magic of the ice sword, there’s a brief tingle of a battle, and Caleb wins out. The ice begins to melt and the pain begins to seep away.   
“Thanks.” Beau mutters, grudging, and Caleb smiles a little.   
“You and Jester should switch with Mollymauk and I. It will give you a chance to recover your health and your spells.”   
“That’s not the  _ worst _ idea you’ve ever had. What d’you think, Molly?”   
Molly is re-sheathing his scimitars, he shrugs, “Makes no difference to me, if you’d prefer it that way.”   
“Cool. Thanks, Molly.” She punches him affectionately in the arm, and disappears with Jester to their bedrolls beside the fire, leaving Molly and Caleb alone.   
Molly moves his eyes from his belts, now secure, to Caleb, and grins.    
“What?” Caleb asks, and Molly sidles closer.   
“Couldn’t wait to be alone with me,  _ hm _ ?”   
Caleb blinks at him, completely deadpan.   
“I can change you out for Fjord if this is an issue for you.” He tells Molly, “He has already volunteered to take your place.”   
“No! No, it’s fine. I’m looking forward to four hours of quality Caleb time.”   
Caleb sighs and bumps, perhaps accidentally, into Molly’s arm as he walks by.   
“We should eat our fill of whatever Fjord has for us, then, I feel like it is going to be a long night.”   
  
What Fjord has turns out to be some kind of vegetable broth with noodles. Caleb and Molly sit together and split a bowl, saving one for later, and Molly has the broth whilst Caleb has the noodles. It’s at Molly’s insistence that Caleb has the solid of the foods, and they sit in grudging silence and Molly watches Caleb fork the noodles into his mouth, side-eyeing Molly all the while.   
“Right, we’re goin’ to sleep. See ya in a couple hours.” She pats Fjord on the shoulder as she and Jester leave, Caleb watches them cuddle up and snuggle down together, the flicker of jealousy uncomfortable in his throat.   
There’s a hand to his back. Lukewarm, to Caleb it’s cold, it ghosts from the place between his shoulder blades down until it rests, flat, on the small of his back, a somewhat comforting weight.

 

Molly keeps one scimitar in his hand on watch, now. He’s learned from his mistakes, and rectifies them both in keeping one drawn, and in keeping Caleb close to his side, though Caleb’s tired form is slumped under one arm and leaning on Molly heavily.   
“Truth or dare?” Molly asks, quiet, they’re on their third round and it’s the only thing keeping Caleb awake.   
“Truth.” Caleb tries to stop his voice slurring the word and sits up a little higher against Molly.   
Molly hums as he thinks, winds the scimitar around his fingers, and settles on a question that Jester had put up during their last, impromptu game.   
“Is there anyone in the group that you find attractive?” And smirks a little, tilts so that Caleb can see his expression. He sees Caleb roll his eyes.   
“Of course. Have you, have you ever looked at our group?”   
“I answered  _ yes _ to that too, remember.” Molly squishes his hand against Caleb’s hip. “Who is it?”   
“Ah-ah.” Caleb smiles now, “It is not your turn. Truth or dare, Mollymauk?”   
“Hm. Dare.”   
Caleb curses under his breath and Molly chuckles at his dismay.   
“Our of curiosity, do you think that you could impose your magical abilities on things such as, as teeth, or… nails?”   
“If that’s your question, I’ll quite happily switch to truth.”   
Caleb’s desire for information wins out over his need to poke fun.   
“Yes. Fine, yes, that’s my question.”   
Molly shrugs, Caleb feels the pull in the arm around his shoulders.   
“No fucking idea! Never tried it, don’t really want to have my fingernails be icy forever, you know?”   
“Could you do it to me?”   
“Ah-ah.” Molly smiles as he imitates Caleb, “It isn’t your turn, Caleb! Truth or dare?”   
Caleb tilts his chin up.   
“Truth.”   
“ _ Who? _ ” Molly breathes, tilting his head closer to Caleb’s, “ _ Who _ is it?”   
“I think that Fjord is attractive.” Caleb says, as plainly as stating the weather, “He is incredibly handsome, a fact I am sure that you, too, have noticed. I’m sure even Beau has called him handsome at one point.”   
Molly gives a snort of laughter.   
“Anyone else?”   
Caleb pauses to think. And draws it out deliberately, wily with his words,   
“It depends on what kind of attraction you are asking.”   
Molly shrugs again, swallowing down the rambles threatening in his throat.   
“I’ll save my specifics for my next turn. And I’ll take a truth.”   
“What is it that you are  _ really _ trying to ask me?” Caleb tilts his head against Molly’s shoulder, so close now that he can feel Molly’s breath. Molly takes a gulp of air.   
“Whether or not you are romantically attracted to  _ me _ . I know that I’m attractive, I don’t need that affirmation. I just want to know if I have a, ah, a shot. With you.”   
Caleb chuckles softly at the way Molly spits the words, the way he tenses all across his body, and shifts a hand up to tangle in Molly’s hair.   
“Truth.” He says, quiet and mischief and everything indescribable.   
Molly meets his eyes.   
“Do I?”   
Caleb kisses him in answer, bridges the short gap and presses their lips together with only the barest edge of teeth and a hum of pleasure. 

 

They wake Fjord and Nott as the moon begins its descent in the sky.   
“Entertainin’ watch?” Fjord asks as he pulls himself up, eyes firmly on Molly and Caleb’s interlinked fingers.   
“Rather boring, honestly.” Molly grins, wolfish in the moonlight, and slings his arm around Caleb’s shoulders.   
“Hm. Sure.” Fjord mills on by and lets Caleb and Molly slip past and snuggle down together, entwined.   
“I see why Beau likes this so much.” Molly mumbles warmly as Caleb presses a kiss to the soft of his throat, “It’s very enjoyable.”   
“Go to to fucking sleep, Mollymauk.” Caleb yawns, and Molly gives a breathy laugh.   
“Okay, okay. Love you, Caleb.”   
Caleb pushes himself into the fabric of Molly’s collar.   
“Mmm, love you too.”


End file.
